


Estrus

by Eristastic



Series: Paranormality [2]
Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eristastic/pseuds/Eristastic
Summary: Estrus; applies to nonhuman mammals: a state or period of heightened sexual arousal and activity  
A skippable side-story to Paranormality, in which half-vampires apparently go into heat and then bother their human lovers until it gets taken care of.(Scientific accuracy not guaranteed)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I highly doubt vampires would actually go into heat. Or have pheromones, actually, no matter what the literature says. But. Here we are anyway.
> 
> For the record, writing this kind of thing takes my mind off stress, which is why I have such an unforgivably high ratio of smut in my works.

There was a lot about Raymond that Walter resented, and not – he thought – without good reason. He never let Walter get on with his work for a decent amount of time, he was always pushing Walter to go off on reconnaissance trips or rogue vampire hunts (whether necessary or not), and he was apparently so bored by his own life that he felt the need to infringe on every aspect of Walter’s.

It made a change from before, certainly, and it made Yue and Fairia smile knowingly, for what that was worth (not much, in Walter’s opinion), but that didn’t mean it was a good thing.

Now, for example: right now, he was convinced that he should have held out for a less irritating partner.

His phone had been buzzing at least once every half hour all afternoon, a frequency that had only increased as the afternoon faded into evening. Walter had looked at the first few – requests for him to come home – replied angrily that he had a job and he was damn well going to do it, and then ignored the rest out of pure obstinacy. If Raymond was so desperate, he could call the office phone, which was only ever allowed in emergencies.

The texts hadn’t stopped, though. His phone had buzzed happily in his pocket all through the walk to the station, the twenty minute train journey, and now as he walked back to his flat. It was _embarrassing_. There were limits to these things, surely! And yes, the idea that Raymond might genuinely be in trouble had slipped through his mind once or twice, but he knew for a fact that Raymond had both other friends and access to emergency call-lines, so it was more likely that he was just bored. Bored, and in Walter’s home. For the twentieth time, Walter cursed himself for giving Raymond a spare key.

It was a bitterly cold night, the type with winds you could practically feel dragging all the moisture out of your skin. Walter had to duck his face into his scarf as he stalked around a corner and onto a more open street, his hair whipping back from his face. All he wanted was some peace. He wanted to go home, relax, eat at some point, and possibly do something that wasn’t work. He’d been doing overtime for a week straight and he just wanted to unwind for once. Were baths good for that? Everyone said they were, but Walter only ever got bored in baths. Maybe he could find a book or something.

His phone buzzed again, twice in quick succession, and he scowled at the ground. There was a thin layer of water from rain earlier that day and the city lights were shining in it, scattering everywhere when his boots splashed through. Raymond could bloody well wait. If he was just getting excited over another ‘fool-proof’ opportunity to catch and kill a group of rogues, Walter was going to hit him.

Filled with such thoughts, Walter’s opinion of Raymond grew less and less charitable as he neared his block. His phone buzzed again just as he was walking through the front doors, and despite how tired he felt, he ignored the lift in favour of the stairs so he’d take longer to get to his flat. It was petty, it was spiteful, and it made him smile, so that was nice. He started to think up cold, cutting things he could say if Raymond set a single toe out of line.

It was thus a surprise when he walked through his front door, turned to hang up his scarf and coat, and barely had a single footstep of warning before he was being hugged from behind. Tightly.

After the initial shock that bore more than a slight similarity to a heart attack, Walter tried to turn around, his hands still on the scarf he’d just hung up.

“Raymond, what on earth are you _doing_?”

He didn’t answer, because apparently he didn’t think that he needed to explain what he was doing, despite the fact that he very much did. Instead, he somehow managed to wrap his arms tighter, and lifted his head up from where he’d seemingly been breathing in the smell of Walter’s shoulder blades. His voice almost a groan, he said, “Where have you _been_?”

“At work, where I was supposed to be,” Walter said coldly, trying to take off his shoulder bag and dislodge Raymond at the same time, though he only succeeded in doing the former. “You should have been able to guess that, since I’m always at work.”

“Didn’t you check your phone?” Still, he sounded huskier than usual.

“No, because I had no interest in you trying to persuade me to come home early just because you were bored. And for the record, Raymond, this isn’t actually your house, so I’d prefer if you didn’t…” He trailed off as Raymond pushed his face into Walter’s shoulder, pressed against him, and let out a long, shuddering breath.

That wasn’t, generally, a normal reaction to being told off. Walter tried to move around again, but it was decidedly difficult with a grown man holding onto him as if he’d melt away at any second. He sighed.

“Raymond, really, what are you doing? Are you alright?”

“Would you just _look at your fucking phone_?” Raymond hissed, his hands trembling around Walter’s waist.

It wasn’t an easy angle, but Walter did manage to get his phone out, and he started to scroll down the texts. About ten in, he paused.

“Oh.”

No response, and Raymond wasn’t breathing normally.

“Oh, that’s quite interesting. I didn’t know vampires – much less half-vampires – went into heat. How does that work? I wouldn’t have classed vampires as mammals.”

“Walter, I swear if you don’t shut up and help me, I’m going to– _ah!_ ” he broke off into a breathy moan as Walter pushed his body back against him. His knuckles were white when Walter looked down. It was satisfying.

“How about you give me five minutes to get out of the doorway first?” he said, already unbuttoning his coat.

 

There was a thick, sweet smell all throughout the house, but it was strongest in the bedroom. It was like breathing above a pan of cooking toffee, but not as sickening, and far headier. Walter had known vampires had pheromones – had experienced them first-hand on many an occasion – but he’d never known anything like this. He could feel his cheeks flush, could feel the heat rise through him unbidden, and by the time he did get into his bedroom, Raymond in tow, he had to start unbuttoning his shirt.

Raymond whined, wringing his hands together. The second Walter’s shoulders were uncovered, he leapt forwards, kissing the back of his neck and running hands through his hair, alternately twisting and stroking it. Walter froze for a second, remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and managed to get his shirt off properly. For good measure, he pulled his keys and phone out of his pockets and threw them onto a nearby chair with pleasing accuracy.

It should have been cold, but if anything, it was even hotter than before. Raymond seemed to radiate warmth: his pheromones pulsing out into the air were almost tangible, but that was impossible, of course. It just felt that way. Walter tipped his head backwards, offering his neck, and winced when Raymond bit into his skin and began to drink.

It didn’t last long. His hands were already gripping Walter’s hips painfully and he was bucking into Walter’s ass like he couldn’t help himself, too desperate to practice any kind of self-control. Not that that was a strength of his at the best of times. With a last suck, he pulled out of Walter’s throat and licked the bite, breathing too heavily to be comfortable. His arms reached over Walter’s neck to get at his chest, stroking up from his navel.

At the touch, a fierce bolt of something very like pleasure jolted down Walter’s abdomen and he opened his eyes. Forget relaxation – he took Raymond’s hands off his chest and turned around, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his jaw.

“If you think we’re doing this in the middle of the room, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Raymond’s eyes were too dilated to see any of the iris, and he nodded – frantically – rather than saying anything. Walter had to pull him over to the bed, and was rewarded by having his legs all but kicked out from under him. He fell onto his back on the mattress, grimacing with the impact, and when he opened his eyes again, Raymond was on top of him, kissing up his neck hungrily.

Walter lay there, his calves hanging off the bed and the warmth in his gut coiling tighter with every scrape of teeth Raymond left on his skin whenever he got too desperate. He was rutting against Walter’s legs, as undisciplined as a dog, and when he lifted himself up for a moment – his eyes hooded, his mouth open, lips flushed and glistening with saliva – Walter found himself leaning up to kiss him.

If he’d been expecting gentleness, he’d have been disappointed, but he hadn’t, and the raw need that pushed him back onto the bed was exactly what he’d been looking for. Raymond’s teeth caught on his tongue and lips, but he didn’t really notice, or if he did, it was so caught up in the force of everything else that he couldn’t care. He had to physically lift Raymond’s head away so he could speak.

“You want to be fucked, don’t you?” he said, his voice breathless but otherwise calm.

Raymond nodded, head still caught between Walter’s hands.

“You want me to fuck you? That’s what you like, isn’t it?” He smiled, not quite kindly, looking Raymond up and down critically. “Look at the state of you. You’d take anything I’d give you right now, and you’d beg for it. Wouldn’t you be just as satisfied with my fingers?”

Raymond shook his head, fangs glinting in the light. He looked equal parts pleading and utterly lost in his heat. “I wouldn’t: I want _you_.”

“You want me? So what, do you want it so all you can feel is my cock?”

Raymond groaned, closing his eyes as if the sound was painful.

“I’ll let you have it,” Walter said benevolently. “I’ll let you do whatever you want – I’ll fuck you, or you can choke on me, or you can do what you like to me, you sick, pathetic _dog_ – but you have to ask me first.”

Raymond’s fists were trembling in the blankets either side of Walter’s head. His first attempt came out as dry sound, and he had to swallow, licking his swollen lips, and try again.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Walter’s. “I don’t want to feel anything but you. Fuck, Walter, _please_.”

“Surprisingly sweet for someone who’s thrusting against me like an animal,” Walter said in a mild voice, and lifted a thigh against Raymond’s cock sharply. Raymond let out a ragged cry, squeezing his eyes shut.

Walter supposed he could work with that.

It took more coordination than he would have imagined to get on the bed properly so he was sitting against the headboard, especially since Raymond didn’t seem to want to let go or stop moving, or cooperate at all. He was far more occupied with pressing himself against Walter, apparently desperate for any kind of contact. It was oppressively hot. When Walter pushed his fringe out of his eyes, he felt sweat on his fingers.

Raymond clambered into his lap and kissed him, supporting himself against the wall with one hand either side of Walter’s head. There were gruff, needy sounds slipping out of his mouth every time he moved, and he kept raking his teeth down Walter’s skin. Walter was sure he drew blood at one point, but if he did, he licked it away, and Walter didn’t really care anyway.

Breath coming out in flighty little gasps, he reached around to drag fingernails down Raymond’s back, a silent command to make him push his ass out. He did, with a whine at the sudden lack of friction. Walter felt it too, the gaping dissatisfaction, but he’d like to think he dealt with it better than Raymond, who immediately started pushing his ass back into Walter’s hands, breathing like a nearly-drowned man.

Walter took a moment to enjoy the feeling of control – as heady and intoxicating as the pheromones he sucked into his body with every breath – and then brought a hand to his mouth to quickly suck his fingers, pulled down Raymond’s waistbands, and pushed two fingers in.

Raymond swore, pushing back onto his fingers with jerky, uncontrolled movements. He’d stopped kissing along Walter’s collarbone: it seemed to take everything he had just to breathe into Walter’s chest, grinding his hips backwards. Walter, personally, hated this part, but it was something of a consolation to see how lost to the world Raymond had become from just two fingers. Gratifying, too, and Walter would have been lying if he’d said it wasn’t turning him on. Not that he needed the help, with the pheromones seeping into him like syrup; he could barely stand the heat, and the only way to satisfy it was to stroke himself almost casually through his trousers, watching Raymond fuck himself on his fingers. Curious, he pushed two more in.

The cry that came out of Raymond’s mouth was so broken that it barely sounded human, and then Walter found himself faced with eyes that certainly weren’t. Raymond’s pupils had thinned to slits, the iris an angry, burning red around them. There was an uncertain pause, and then his bestial expression splintered and cracked into something pained. He bit into Walter’s shoulder, still trying to push back onto his fingers at the same time. Walter hesitated, waiting for him to finish feeding, but he broke away with a snarl when he realised Walter wasn’t moving anymore.

“Keep going,” he said. “Keep going, please, just– _fuck_ , it’s fine, it’s fine, just fuck me, _please_!”

The words went straight to Walter’s cock, and he nodded pointlessly, using his free hand to undo his trousers. There was too much in the way: he had to undo Raymond’s belt properly, pull down his trousers and boxers, rub his own pre-come over his cock, but then it was only a matter of pulling his fingers away and tapping Raymond’s hips like he was giving him permission. Impatiently, Raymond lowered himself, and Walter had to close his eyes.

The calm didn’t last long. Raymond started moving – his thighs trembling either side of Walter’s hips – and he hung onto Walter’s shoulders like it was all he was capable of. His breaths came out like growls as he rubbed his cock against Walter’s stomach, and for some time Walter couldn’t do anything but keep his eyes closed and _feel_. He wanted to move, but there was nothing for him to do but stutter out gasps as pleasure coiled and twisted in the pit of his abdomen. Soon, it became too much to hold back, and he reached one hand down to stroke up Raymond’s cock.

Raymond let out a guttural, choking sound, and lunged back to the bite he’d left in Walter’s shoulder earlier.

There was something very like ecstasy in being fed on during sex. The rhythmic, painful pressure coupled with shocks of pleasure seemed to be all that he could feel: an existence brought down to two points, with no space left for thought or reason or anything like that. It could be called relaxation, he supposed.

It wasn’t just that, of course. There was the intoxication of pheromones making every sensation so much _more_ , and there was the warm, comforting confidence of having someone so devoted to every part of you, moving against you as if they wished for nothing but the freedom to use you as they liked. And, naturally, Walter couldn’t have that.

He tightened his grip as Raymond’s movements grew jerkier, even less restrained. Raymond pulled his fangs out, looking up, and Walter pushed him onto his back, the two of them landing less than smoothly. That was just to be expected, he supposed, and he pushed himself up, finding a balance between supporting himself on his arm and knees between Raymond’s spread thighs.

He smiled. Composure always had been one of his better qualities. “You’re going to come, aren’t you?” He stroked up Raymond’s cock, enjoying how it made him shiver and tip his head back. “But I’m not close yet,” Walter lied, “so you need to hold on. You’re not so undisciplined that you can’t wait, are you? Or maybe you are.”

He jerked his hips forwards, once, and almost came at the sight of Raymond gripping the sheets in some attempt at control, spreading his thighs wider like an invitation he was begging Walter to take.

Walter, blessed with self-restraint, didn’t. Instead, he lifted his eyebrows and said, “Do you have any idea how pathetic you look? Right now, I could fuck you with anything – my fingers, toys…fuck, a water bottle would probably do it for you – and you’d thank me, wouldn’t you? You’d get on your knees and thank me. A noble vampire, brought to his knees, a slave to his own dick. Why should I have anything to do with you? Show me why I should,” he said, thrusting his hips forwards. “Show me you’re not a fucking animal.”

Raymond was crying out now, his head tipped back so far that all Walter could see was his throat and mouth, fangs jutting out with his blood still on them. The sheets were so taut in Raymond’s hands that they were going to rip any second, he just knew it, but it wouldn’t be the first time, so he just held the base of Raymond’s cock and started to fuck him properly.

By force of pure will, he managed not to come straight away. He was already out of breath, his body was already drained, but with pheromones and need fuelling him on, he managed to move. Raymond shook and screamed, but stayed obedient, no matter how much he clearly didn’t want to. It didn’t take long, either way. Neither of them had the stamina for that, and Walter only managed to last a few jerky thrusts before he bent his forehead to Raymond’s chest, breathing heavily and gritting his teeth as he came. Riding it out, he let go of Raymond’s cock and stroked up him once before he was coming too, accompanied by a bestial howl and fierce ripping sounds from the sheets. Collateral damage, Walter supposed, though he wasn’t in much of a position to think.

Thoroughly drained, he collapsed against Raymond’s chest for a minute. When he thought himself capable of it, he pulled out, rolled over, and vaguely considered going to sleep. He was interrupted by the mattress creaking, and looked up to see Raymond over him. His eyes were glowing red again.

“Yes?” Walter said dryly.

“Let’s go again.”

“Let’s not.”

Raymond bent down to nuzzle at his neck, as if that was going to distract Walter from how he was also grinding their hips together. “ _Let’s_. This fucking thing is driving me crazy, come on. Just once more. That was so good, and you said I could have you however I liked, right?”

Walter glared at him. “Get off by yourself. I’m tired.”

“I’ll make it worth your while. You won’t have to do anything but lie there, word of honour!”

Walter glared at him some more, for good measure, and then said, “Let’s make a deal. You can, but only if you never send me that many texts in one day again.”

“Fucking done,” Raymond said, entirely unrepentantly, and all but lunged to kiss him.


End file.
